


Team Wolf, Gold Medallists

by oceanofchaos



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Crack, Future Fic, Gen, Gymnastics, Notfic, Olympics AU, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanofchaos/pseuds/oceanofchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a video of Ukranian Olympic gymnasts, a skype conversation with the-candy-van, and the fact that derek likes to unnecessarily backflip in and out of scenes.</p><p>Werewolves of Teen Wolf as aspiring Olympic gymnastics team, doing somersaults and taking names.</p><p>- </p><p>It makes sense, really. No wonder their fights were always choreographed like a goddamn dance scene, they were really just floor routines ineptly adapted for fighting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Team Wolf, Gold Medallists

**Author's Note:**

  * For [candyvan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/candyvan/gifts).



> The video in question which inspired this is http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=Q5L4MT8LdOQ if you're interested. Basically I am 5000% sure it is actually magic.

_“Aaaaand, representing the USA in the newest event of the Games, the Mixed Artistic Gymnastics, we have McCall, Hale, Hale, Argent, Lahey, Stilinski, and finally Martin!_

 

 

–

It all started during practice one day in April. They’d been flipping off the walls into various defensive positions, and Isaac had cracked a joke about going for an Olympic medal, which would have been it, except Derek had fucking _sighed wistfully_. 

 

“What.” is the collective response of the whole group. 

 

“No, really, _what??_ ” clarifies Stiles. 

 

Cora scowls at them as though they were all being really insensitive, before explaining, “We had just qualified for Beijing 2008 when our family was set on fire. _God_.”

 

There’s a long pause.

 

“That explains so fucking much,” says Boyd, wearily.

 

 

–

 

It makes sense, really. No wonder their fights were always choreographed like a goddamn dance scene, they were really just floor routines ineptly adapted for fighting.

 

 

–

 

“Do we actually need to learn a human pyramid?” Scott asks, plaintively, “Or is this a gymnastics thing?” 

 

Derek sighs, ignoring the snickers from Erica and Stiles. He spares a glance at Cora, who looks vaguely more sympathetic than usual, before trying again with Scott. “It’s not a _gymnastics thing_ , Scott. It’s a useful life skill.” His tone’s still pained, but sounds much less aggravated than he feels, so it could definitely be worse. 

 

 

–

 

At about this point, Stiles finds an obscure East European form of magic that involves gymnastics and dance, and things escalate. He teaches himself a bit, mainly as a joke, partially because he remembers his mom doing yoga and it isn’t that dissimilar, right?

 

It’s definitely worth it for the faces on everyone the first time he draws a rune in the air with his pointed toes while doing a one–handed handstand atop the Nemeton. Particularly as it takes them a few minutes to realise he’d just done actual magic.

 

Warm ups and warm downs are a bitch, though. Freaking werewolves.

 

 

–

 

It’s about when Finstock finds them practicing pyramids and handstands that the whole thing gets kind of out of control. Suddenly he’s offering to train them, thinks they really have a chance, they can really go the distance. Scott wants to laugh it off, but he’s trying to be a good alpha, and both Derek and Cora had fucking _glowed_ when Finstock started quoting Hercules, so. 

 

So. There’s official lessons, and practices pretty much everyday. Derek and Cora try really hard not to be obviously thrilled about it, but they aren’t even at all subtle, and how happy they are about it kind of makes Scott want to cry. 

 

Allison finds out, and instantly asks to join the team, declaring that over ten years of gymnastics will be just as effective as being a werewolf. She gets just as into it as the Hales, and they bond far better over choreographing routines than they ever did over trying to defeat the alpha pack. All this really means that they have about four really driven coaches now, and what Scott had suggested as sort–of–a–joke is now actually serious. Like, Scott’s spending more time practicing gymnastics than he does lacrosse. Which is fine, he just didn’t really mean to accidentally slip into professional acrobatics? 

 

“Hey, Scott,” laughs Stiles, “You realise that ‘ _you’re the team captain now’_?”

 

 

–

 

The wendigo that was charging towards them hesitates, looking vaguely impressed by the synchronisation of their backflips. 

 

"Guys,” asks Erica, “What are you doing?" 

 

"Intimidating him with our sheer physical prowess, obviously," snaps Isaac. 

 

The wendigo has stopped now, head tilted in confusion. 

 

"I will snap your neck with my muscular thighs, and look damn good while doing it!" threatens Cora, clearly pleased when it backs off, disappearing back into the trees.

 

“Okay, fine,” admits Erica, “That did kind of work, but we still need to kill it.”

 

 

–

 

On the second week where the pack meeting turned to yet another gymnastics practice, Lydia announces that she’s joining the team.

 

“But Lydia, we’re all werewolves,” tries Isaac, “You’re not going to be able to keep up.” At least three people in the room wince, and Isaac looks like he’s regretting every decision that led to this point. 

 

“Allison isn’t a werewolf, nor is Stiles,” points out Lydia, voice deadly soft.

 

“Allison has been doing this for over a decade? And Stiles is using magic??” asks Isaac, all resolve gone.

 

“Yes,” Lydia says, feigning patience, “But _I_ am Lydia Martin. And if you think I am going to sit out quietly while everyone I care about, and everyone who I might need in the case of an emergency, does acrobatics in a room together then you’re an idiot, quite frankly.”

 

“Right,” agrees Isaac quickly, “Sorry. Bad idea, never mind.”

 

“Besides,” continues Lydia, ignoring him, “You need a flyer, and I want more extracurriculars.”

 

 

–

 

The hunters look utterly bewildered. The stand off with the pack had been pretty standard, until one of the humans started doing lunges.

 

“Uh, what are you doing?” ventures the leader, side–eyeing quite hard.

 

“Hmm?” says the kid, looking up to check they meant him, “Just limbering up a little. Warm ups are really important, you know,” he says kind of pointedly. At least three of the betas roll their eyes. 

 

“For the last time, Stiles, we don’t have to. We’re werewolves,” says the blue–eyed werewolf. 

 

“Yes! Exactly!” exclaims one of the hunters, trying to bring them back to the point, because frankly it’s getting kind of weird.

 

Scott, as the alpha had introduced himself, smiles genially at them. “Look, we don’t want any trouble, but we’ll defend ourselves if we have to,” he says. It’s not a relieving sentiment, really, but it’s closer to the norm than the kid who’s now doing starjumps, so the hunters will later agree that they all felt weirdly relieved by it.

 

Right up until the werewolves start somersaulting into a human pyramid. Then Stiles flips up to the top of the pyramid and starts drawing runes in the air with his toes. The hunters exchange glances.

 

"Uh, this is kind of awkward. We're, uh, we're gonna go."

 

"Yeah, you better run!"

 

 

–

 

The day they lose Boyd and Erica is _devastating_.

 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” says Boyd, “You’re all fucking ridiculous.”

 

“Yeah,” says Erica, “I signed up to be a werewolf, not an acrobat, alright?” 

 

Derek looks close to tears, as Stiles tries to comfort him. 

 

“Guys,” Scott tries, placatingly, “This is pack bonding, right? It’s–”

 

“Scott.” Boyd looks so thoroughly unimpressed with all of them right now. He sighs long sufferingly. “We’re not leaving the pack, we just think we should focus more on hunters and territory issues, let alone college applications, than acrobatics practice. And frankly? We aren’t that keen on gymnastics.”

 

The gasp Isaac lets out is pained. Allison is trying too hard to keep her face blank. Cora’s growling is getting increasingly loud. Scott is going to have such a headache trying to sort everyone’s feelings out. 

 

“For fuck’s sake,” sighs Boyd.

 

“Let’s go get Starbucks,” agrees Erica. 

 

–

Finstock is really reluctant to allow Lydia to do triple flips these days. It’s probably because the first time they tried, she started screaming, and Scott and Isaac, who were supposed to be her bases, both flinched away. If Allison hadn’t stepped in, she might not have stuck the landing. They can’t tell him that she’s a banshee, and the wailing was involuntary, so no one really knows what to do for a while. At least five of the floor routines they’ve composed involve Lydia doing triple flips, and no one wants Cora to threaten Finstock. It’s Stiles who figures out a solution. 

 

“She was doing a war cry,” he says.

 

“Oh, of course,” says Finstock, “Completely understandable. In fact my own war cry goes along the lines of…”

 

 

–

 

“Can you exposition a bit longer?” asks Stiles, as politely as he can manage, “I just need to limber up a little more.”

 

“What?” asks the necromancer who’s holding Allison by the throat. He looks over at the werewolves chained to his wall, who now look exasperated over angry.

 

“I don’t think you really explained your motivations very well,” says Stiles pointedly, as he stretches his hamstrings out.

 

“How dare you!” exclaims the offended necromancer, loosening his grip on Allison, “I quite clearly explained that werewolves nearly killed me once, so I–” He stops, distracted by Allison breaking his nose.

 

Stiles contorts into the shape of a complex unlocking rune, and the shackles all pop open. The necromancer is chained up in about two more seconds, and Scott starts lecturing him. 

 

Derek walks over to Stiles, pokes at him a little until he reacts.

 

“What? Quit that.”

 

“Aren’t you going to warm down now?” asks Derek with a wide grin, “I hear it’s really important for humans.”

 

“Ugh.”

 

 

–

 

When they qualify for the Olympics, Derek actually cries. Thing is, so does everyone else. They feel like they’ve been practicing and competing for so long now, and this is the final proof that it’s been worth it.

 

The flight to Rio de Janeiro is so surreal.

 

Allison, Boyd, and Erica are taking advantage of the minibar on flight there, though only Allison will feel any effects. 

 

Isaac, Lydia, and Cora are obsessively going over routines with Finstock. Lydia has gotten videos of the other teams, and they’re over–analysing it. There are diagrams and highlighters involved, and it’s frankly a little scary.

Scott and Stiles are discussing how to return to normal life after they win. It’s more than a little self–assured.

 

Scott grins, loudly exclaiming, "My new negotiation technique is from now on is gonna be ‘You sure you don't wanna make a treaty? Because our floor routine is stunning, we got _all nines_ , motherfucker!’ "

 

Stiles barks with laughter, adding, “I’m gonna wear my olympic gold medal to every battle, be all ‘I don't wanna brag, but you best not mess with us cause we got GOLD, _hell yeah_!’ “ 

 

Derek, meanwhile, is feeling kind of sick with nerves. And also maybe a bit like he might cry. He’s a real gymnast, he’s really genuinely a _real gymnast_. It doesn’t matter how well they do, or whether they place, he’s _going to the Olympics_. He’s actually achieving his dreams. He’s so excited. He’s so scared. 

 

 

–

 

The crowds are overwhelming. 

 

“All we can do is our best,” says Scott, very seriously. 

 

“Ugh, shut up,”  is the collective response of the whole group. 

 

 

–

 

_“Aaaaand, representing the USA in the newest event of the Games, the Mixed Artistic Gymnastics, we have McCall, Hale, Hale, Argent, Lahey, Stilinski, and finally Martin!_

 

 

–

 

The routine goes perfectly, which is unsurprising given they literally incorporate gymnastics based magic. Unfortunately, so do the Ukrainians. 

 

For all the gold medal jokes, they’re totally thrilled with silver. They all totally tear up on the podium, and Lydia says she’s going to preserve their bouquets.

 

“And  the irony, man? Werewolves and silver? Oh god, it’s hilarious!” laughs Stiles. 

 

 

–

 

Of course, Boyd and Erica make a point of wearing their gold medals, in shot–put and javelin respectively, freaking _everywhere_. Whatever.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not that Boyd and Erica didn't want to do Olympic level sports, it's just that they figured shot-put and javelin are more useful life skills than gymnastics, given the amount of fights they get into in Beacon Hills. 
> 
> I'm islandoforder at tumblr, by the way, feel free to come say hi


End file.
